The Forest's Last Defense

The silence that followed their battle against the corrupted sentinels was unsettling. The air remained heavy, thick with the remnants of dark energy, but the World Tree's presence pulsed faintly in the distance—a struggling heartbeat that sent shivers through Mekeala's bones. She knew they had no time to waste.

Maya knelt beside one of the fallen sentinels, pressing a hand against its bark. Her expression darkened. "The corruption isn't fully gone. Cedric's magic is still inside the forest."

Ezekeil's grip on his sword tightened. "Then we need to move. Now."

Mekeala barely heard them. Her connection to the World Tree was stronger now, but something was interfering with it. She could feel the roots trembling, a desperate call reaching out to her.

She turned to the others. "We're not alone."

Before anyone could react, a shadow moved between the trees.

The first arrow flew without warning, embedding itself into a tree inches from Jack's head. He swore, diving for cover just as figures emerged from the mist—Cedric's elite soldiers, cloaked in darkness, followed by monstrous shadow creatures.

The ambush had begun.

The first wave struck hard, forcing the group apart. Ezekeil's blade met the soldiers head-on, his golden eyes burning with fury as he cut through them with precision. Maya hurled enchantments, bolts of fire and ice colliding against their enemies. Jack, ever the opportunist, danced between the shadows, his daggers striking weak points before he disappeared into the chaos again.

Mekeala tried to summon her magic, but the moment it flared, a sharp pain tore through her chest. The power was too much, too unstable. She gritted her teeth, trying to push past it—

Then the vision hit her.

The battlefield vanished, replaced by a world of golden light and twisting roots.

She saw the World Tree, its roots blackened and cracking, struggling to hold itself together. And beneath its branches—

Esme.

Her grandmother stood at the base of the tree, wielding her staff against Cedric's advancing forces. Beside her, a silver-haired woman clad in flowing emerald robes chanted in an ancient tongue—Lady Arween, the Guardian of the World Tree.

To Esme's right, an armored figure fought with fierce precision, his blade cutting through shadows—Lord Elrond, the elven lord, leading what was left of his warriors.

The elves were losing ground. The corruption was spreading.

And then, from the darkness beyond the battlefield, something massive stirred.

A monstrous being, twisted and unnatural, rose from the roots of the World Tree—a creation of Cedric's dark experiments. Its eyes burned with violet energy, its limbs shifting like liquid shadows.

Mekeala's breath caught. This was more than just an invasion.

This was a war for the soul of the Enchanted Forest.

The vision shattered.

She gasped, stumbling backward just as Ezekeil caught her. His voice was urgent. "What did you see?"

Mekeala gripped his arm, panic setting in. "Esme. She's fighting with Lady Arween and Lord Elrond at the base of the World Tree. The elves are barely holding on." She swallowed, her voice trembling. "And there's something else. Cedric's created… something. Something terrible."

Ezekeil cursed under his breath. "Then we don't have time for this fight."

Jack dodged an incoming attack, throwing his dagger into an enemy's throat before turning to them. "You want to get out of here? Because I'm all for it."

Maya muttered an incantation, and a wave of force sent their attackers staggering back just long enough for an opening.

"This way!"

They ran.

The mist thickened around them as they pushed forward, the sounds of battle fading behind them. Every second counted. Mekeala could feel the World Tree's presence growing stronger, but with it came the undeniable sensation of something dark and festering.